


Fight in the Dog, The Illusion of Strength

by junko



Category: Bleach
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-02-22
Updated: 2012-02-22
Packaged: 2017-10-31 14:07:44
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,934
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/344873
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/junko/pseuds/junko
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A completely non-slashy stand alone which deals with what might have caused Renji's transfer from Aizen's Fifth division to the Eleventh.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Fight in the Dog, The Illusion of Strength

**Author's Note:**

> Warning: Strong Language. 
> 
> As I'm relatively new to Bleach fandom, I have no idea if the details surrounding Renji's transfer are ever explained fully in canon. All I know is that he was "rebellous" which, of course, only served to fascinate me. I've also spent far too much time trying to figure out why Aizen didn't keep him closer after going to the trouble of recruiting him... so this is my answer.
> 
> Addtional note: I JUST watched episode 120 (? Ikkaku's flashback after releasing his bankai) and so I got the additional information that it *was*, as Ikkaku said, "one fight" that got Renji booted. Thus, I'm pleased to discover that this still fits fairly well. ALSO, I changed the ending, because, frankly, I'm now in love with Ikkaku too.

 

 

_“It’s not the size of the dog in the fight; it’s the size of the fight in the dog.”_

 

Renji found Kira and Momo sitting cross-legged on the grass under the shade of an old oak.  The autumn air was just beginning to have a nip to it, but the sun was still bright and strong.  They had their eyes closed and their zanpaktō across their laps, clearly meditating.  Kira, in particular, looked so serious Renji had to actively resist the urge to kick him.   He set the lunch he’d brought to share down quietly, and stretched out his legs.

He looked at his friends.  They were an odd grouping, the three of them.  He was so big and rough, not like either of the others.  Izuru Kira was a very delicate-looking man, with his elfin features and bright blond hair, the bangs coifed into a sharp point.  Renji knew, though, that despite his looks, Kira had surprising strength and skill.  Momo Hinamori was a tiny little thing herself, but a bigger sweetheart you’d never find.  Renji thought her fashion sense leaned toward that of a prudish old woman, the way she preferred her black hair tied back in a bun and covered with a bit of lace.  But, regardless of her odd style, she, too, was astonishingly brave and cool in a fight.

He was pleased they’d all ended up in the Fifth division together after Academy.

Renji sighed.  It felt good to relax after a long session in the practice yard.  The breeze cooled the sweat on his forehead, and his eyes started to drift shut.  But, they snapped open when he felt it…

Someone was coming.

By the sudden stillness in the air, and the instant retraction of the energy of his zanpaktō, Renji knew exactly who it was.  He stood up quickly.  The captain walked into the clearing, followed closely, as always, by his silver-haired lieutenant.

Renji sketched a quick bow of greeting, “Captain Aizen.  Vice-captain Ichimaru.”

Captain Aizen had an almost stereotypical mild-mannered demeanor, his brown curls unremarkably arranged and large glasses.  Lieutenant Ichimaru, on the other hand, couldn’t look more devious with his thin features and that constant, unnerving grin.

“You’re not mediating as well, Renji?” The captain always sounded slightly amused, though what about Renji could never fathom.  “I would think an ambitious man like yourself would be anxious to learn your zanpaktō’s name.”

 _Zabimaru._   He’d known it for a long time, since graduation, in fact.  But, instinct kept his mouth shut.  For some reason, Zabimaru did not like this man, his captain.  The sword always went into hiding the second Renji sensed Aizen’s reistsu, his spiritual pressure. 

Aizen smiled at him kindly, as if pitying.  “It’s all right,” he said.  “Not everyone is destined to be a seated officer.  You’re a good fighter.  There’s no shame in that.”

“No, sir,” he agreed.

Aizen seemed to inspect him for a long moment.  Renji dropped his eyes, least the captain sense the truth.  If Zabimaru wanted to keep this secret, then Renji did too.

“It’s probably just as well,” Aizen said quietly, turning thoughtful.  “If it’s anything like you, your shikai would be fierce – difficult to control.”

Renji looked up then, frowning.  _Shikai_?  What was that?  Some new level between a man and his zanpaktō?  Why hadn’t Zabimaru shown it to him yet?

“Carry on,” the captain said, by way of dismissal.  “And, Renji, try not to disturb your colleagues.  They’re doing important work.”

“Yes, sir,” he said, though, as he watched Aizen and his silver shadow move off through the trees, Renji had to wonder.  How good could his friends be, if they were so oblivious to energy like his? 

He lay back down and closed his eyes to wait for them to wake.

 

#

Momo opened her eyes first.  The captain and his lieutenant had been gone more than ten minutes, but she, at least, must have felt their passing.  “Captain Aizen?”

“Gone,” Renji sniffed, tucking his arms under his head.  “He said ‘hi,’ though.”

“He did?”

He hadn’t, of course, but Renji knew the thought would cheer Momo.  Her crush on the captain was ridiculously obvious.

Kira stirred next, waking himself with a shiver.  He stared at his zanpaktō with an almost stricken expression.  

“You know what your problem is,” Renji said gruflly.  “You don’t like them.  Either of you.  You’re both scared shitless of their power.”

“What would you know about it?” Kira snapped.  “All you ever do is fight with yours!”

“That’s because that’s what he wants,” Renji said, pulling himself upright on his elbows to look Kira in the eye.  “If Zabimaru had his way, we’d fight everything -- all the time – and never stop.  I’d fight the trees.  The grass.  The air!  He’d tear up everything in his path.  He’s a monster, an animal….”  Renji sobered at the realization, as he added quieter, “…a lot like me.”

Momo’s fingers brushed Renji’s arm.  “Are you really so angry at everything?”

Renji was spared answering by Kira’s incredulous, “Zabimaru?  You know your zanpaktō’s name?  How long?” Kira was on his feet, shouting in accusation.  “How long??”

“Since the beginning -- graduation,” Renji admitted.

“No way.  I don’t believe you.”

“Fine.  Don’t,” Renji shrugged.  “But, then I don’t understand how either of you picked yours that day.  Didn’t they call to you?  Didn’t you talk to them?  I mean, he knew _my_ name.  It seemed only, you know, polite to ask his.”

Kira's rage turned inward and he looked down at the sword he had gripped in his shaking hands.   As always when he looked at his zanpaktō, he seemed a bit horrified by it. “I…  there was no talking.  I just… chose one.”

Renji looked to Momo.  Her face had crumpled as well, and she seemed on the verge of tears. 

“Well, shit,” Renji said with an impatient sigh.  “Let me help you two idiots out.  Yours,” he said, concentrating on Momo’s spiritual energy for a moment, “is something steady, solid.  I don’t know, something earthy... growing. It could be good for you, I think, something different for you to lean on.  You,” he turned his attention to Kira.  He flinched.  “Oh.  I mean, yeah, yours is scary. Heavy. I’d be careful with that.”

“Yeah, I figured that out all by myself, thank you very much,” Kira muttered, his eyes still shrouded.

“How do you do it, Renji?”  Momo asked, looking at her zanpaktō as though with a new appreciation.

“Yeah,” Kira added, perking up, “it’s not like you’re any good at kidō.”

“Fuck off,” Renji said lightly, sitting up all the way.  “I can do kidō.  What I suck at is control, precision.  Besides, this is different.  More gut-level.”

“You always did have good instincts,” Kira allowed.

Renji grunted an acknowledgment of the compliment.

“But, I don’t get it,” Kira continued.  “If you already know his name, why haven’t you called out his shikai?”

"I don’t know,” Renji said sharply, feigning a sudden interest in the grass.  He plucked at the stiff stalks, irritated.   He hadn’t really known about this whole shikai thing.  But, Renji didn’t doubt for a second that Zabimaru would show him when he was ready.  The question was, when would that be?   Given how the sword always reacted in the captain’s presence, he doubted Zabimaru would ever allow any part of himself to be revealed in front of Aizen …or Ichimaru, for that matter.

“Yeah, Renji,” Momo said encouragingly, “if you did, you’d be promoted instantly.  You could be the first one of us to be seated!”

“I don’t think that’s going to happen here," Renji said, still deep in thought.

“Here?” Momo asked, confusion quavering her voice.  "What do you mean 'here'?"

Oh, crap.  Had he said that part out loud?  He could hardly express his completely unfounded doubts about the seemingly harmless captain in front of Momo, who adored the very ground he walked on.  “I meant, uh, the captain seemed to suggest that my shikai might be hard to control.  I’m probably not up for it yet.”

“Wow, listen to you,” Kira teased, leaning a shoulder against the trunk of the oak.  He crossed his arms, and looked down his nose.  “Is that actual humility I hear? Who are you, and what have you done with the real Renji Abarai?”

“Kiss my ass, Kira.”

Momo, as usual, ignored the two of them, and instead latched on to her favorite subject, “Did Aizen really talk to you about your shikai?  Does that mean he knows you’re already communing with your zanpaktō?”

“No!” Renji shouted.  When Momo shrank back in horror at his outburst, Renji took a breath and tried to keep his voice in check.  “Uh, that is, I didn’t tell him.  He thinks I… can’t.  I want to keep it that way.”

“What?” Kira asked. Pushing himself upright, he sounded genuinely concerned.  “Why?”

“I have my reasons,” Renji snarled.  He stared at the ground, not knowing how to talk to his friends about this.  His fists clenched into tight balls.  How could he explain that he trusted Zabimaru implicitly, especially since they didn’t even seem to like the swords they felt forced to carry?  Besides, Momo adored the captain and, inexplicably, Kira seemed to feel the same about the lieutenant.  They’d hate him if they knew how much his skin crawled whenever either man was anywhere nearby.

“Oh, Renji,” Momo’s voice was soft and full of sympathy. “It’s because it’s an animal, isn’t it?  ‘Snake Tail.’  You’re embarrassed that the reflection of your soul is… a beast.”

He snorted a little laugh.  As if that would bother him!  He crossed his arms in front of his chest.  “Yeah,” he said, trying to sound sincere, while not looking either in the eye.  “Don’t tell anyone, okay?”

“Oh, of course not,” Momo offered instantly.  “Your secret is safe with us.”

Kira nodded seriously, in agreement.

Though on their way back to the barracks, Kira had to offer a snarky opinion, “A snake, really, Renji?  I would have thought it would be a dog.”

He gave his friend a playful shove, “Bite me.” 

# 

 

Weeks later, Renji lay on his mat trying to catch a few winks while a noisy game of chance raged in the corner.  Kira sat not far away, reading some manual or other, no doubt trying to improve his kidō.   

Just then, Renji’s skin prickled.  Something slick and cold skittered through his consciousness, drawing closer.  He opened his eyes and sat up.  "Oi!  You lot, look sharp!  The lieutenant's coming."

No sooner had the dice been hidden away when Ichimaru stuck his head in the barracks’ door.  He seemed to glance around briefly at the guilty faces, yet, instead of focusing on them, his attention settled on Renji.  Ichaimaru had that maddening, unreadable grin on his face as always.  “How interesting,” he drawled.  “I can’t seem to pull a snap inspection since you’ve joined our company, Abarai.  Why is that?”

Renji stood to answer.  “We’re all so well-behaved?”

One of the gamblers couldn’t quite swallow a laugh.  Renji shot him a “way-to-blow-it-asshole” glare. 

Ichimaru stepped all the way into the room, and tucked his hands behind his back.  He said nothing, just smiled.  Renji could feel it, though, the probing, unwelcome sensation of Ichimaru’s reistsu crawling all over him.  He stiffened.  It felt like an invasion.  At his hip, Zabimaru snarled.

Ichimaru’s eyebrows shot up. “Did you just… growl?”

Protectively, Renji’s left hand covered the guard of the zanpaktō, and he shifted as though to shield the sword from Ichimaru’s gaze.  “No,” he said, swallowing hard.  A beat later he remembered to add, “Sir.”

“I see.”  Ichimaru tilted his head, like a curious dog.  “It wasn’t you at all, was it?”

“You must have heard my stomach,” Renji said awkwardly, his hand still tight on Zabimaru, willing him to stay quiet.  “I’m still always so hungry, you know.”

The smile never left Ichimaru’s face, as he shook his head slowly:  _“Liar.”_

There was a collective intake of breath.  Kira stood up slowly, his eyes darting between his lieutenant and his friend. 

Renji’s mouth, meanwhile, had gone dry at the accusation.  He could feel the blood draining from his face.  The tension in the room was so thick that no one seemed to be willing to even breathe.  

Ichimaru took a step closer.  Despite having an inch and about twenty pounds on the lieutenant, Renji backed up until he felt the wall stop him short.

“Tsk, tsk.  Someone has been a very naughty boy,” Ichimaru said, poking a boney finger into Renji’s chest.  “Keeping secrets.  That will never do.”

Then suddenly, the lieutenant grabbed Renji by the ear, like a schoolboy, and hauled him toward the door. 

“Ow!” Renji shouted in protest.  It was bad enough to be surrounded by Ichimaru’s spiritual pressure, having his hands on him just pissed Renji off.  He dragged his feet. “Let go of me!”

“Come along now.  I think we need to talk to the captain about how you’re hiding your light under a bushel.”

Ichimaru had wrestled them into the courtyard.  Faces crowded at the door watching their progression.  Renji was not about to be towed in such a humiliating way to the captain’s quarters.  “I said, let go of me!”

Though Ichimaru ignored the tone of Renji’s voice, Kira understood it.  He pushed through the crowd to yell, “Renji, no!”

The warning came too late.  Renji lifted his foot and executed a perfect side kick right into Ichimaru’s ribcage.  It hit with a loud crack.  The force of the blow sent Ichimaru stumbling back. 

When he righted himself, Ichimaru’s smile faltered just a touch, then, it seemed to widen.  His voice was calm, almost pleasant.  “That, boy, was a mistake.”

Kira was suddenly between them, his arms outstretched.  Oddly, Renji thought, Kira seemed to be protecting the lieutenant from him.  Before he could remark on it, the rest of the guys from the barracks piled on him, grabbing his arms, holding him back.

For a long moment, Ichimaru seemed to stare him down, as if disappointed at the swift action of the others.  Then, he turned away.  Lifting a hand lightly, he waggled his fingers as if to wave good-bye.  “Take him to the guardhouse.”

 

 

#

 

Renji faced the wall, not willing to look at Momo’s horrified expression as she stared at him through the bars.  “Assaulting a superior officer?  Oh, Renji, how could you?  You’ll face a court martial for sure.”

He didn’t want to talk about it, mostly because, in all honesty, given another opportunity, he’d happily punch the grin of Ichimaru’s face. 

What killed him more than the disappointment in Momo’s voice was that they’d stripped him of his zanpaktō.  He could still feel Zabimaru nearby, though, like him, under lock and key.

“Leave it, Momo,” he said coldly.  “Rabid dogs get put away or put down.  That’s just how it goes.”

 

#

 

It wasn’t long before dreaded sensation of the captain’s approach clenched Renji’s stomach. No point in delaying the inevitable, Renji thought with a sigh.  He turned just as Captain Aizen rounded the corner, followed, as usual, by that scrawny fox-faced prick.

Ichimaru leaned into to his captain’s ear.  “See.  What did I tell you, Taicho?”

Aizen’s eyes were hidden behind his glasses, but his voice was slightly amused again as he said to Renji, “Do we ever need to announce our approach, I wonder?”

There was no point in hiding the truth now.  "No, sir."

“Well,” he said thoughtfully.  “That only adds to our conundrum, doesn’t it?  What to do with you.”

Renji said nothing.  After all, he had no defense.  Even if he wanted to, he couldn’t lie or try to deny it.  An entire squad had seen him kick Ichimaru.  As Momo so helpfully pointed out, the rules were pretty clear in this regard.  Raising a hand or a weapon to a superior officer was not tolerated.  Renji was only surprised there was a question in the captain’s mind.

“I’ll bet you want this back,” Aizen said. Renji’s eyes widened when Aizen held up Zabimaru.  Renji hadn’t sensed his zanpaktō at all, so deeply its spirit was in hiding.

Renji didn’t need to answer, he’d already moved forward a step without even a thought, and his manacled hands rose to reach for the sword.

“Yes, I thought so,” Aizen said.  “Especially, since it seems you two are already so well-acquainted.”

“Uh…” Renji stopped, dropping his hands.  He looked between captain and lieutenant desperately trying to read the situation.  This was a very strange scene, indeed.  Not at all what he expected.  What was Aizen playing at?

“What my adjutant and I have been trying to fathom, however, is why, Renji?  Why would you keep such a thing secret? And at the expense of your career?"

Renji frowned, trying not to snarl whenever he caught sight of Aizen’s hands on Zabimaru.  Seeing them curled at the sheath was like feeling fingers closing around his own throat.  What could he say?  _My sword hates you and that makes you my enemy_ seemed a touch bizarre, even if was true.

“My lieutenant suggests that the reason is that you’re a worthless cur that has no respect for the ways of the shinigami,” at Aizen’s words, Ichimaru nodded in acknowledgment and touched his nose to indicate, yes, that was his opinion. 

“However,” Aizen continued, “I’m inclined to believe your friends.”

“My friends?”

“Yes, it seems you have a surprising number, though two very loyal ones in particular.  Mr. Kira came to Gin in a right state and talked his ear off for hours, and I’ve had Ms. Hinamori weeping in my office since morning.  They both seem to think you’re suffering from some kind of misplaced… shame.”

Renji could do little more than raise his eyebrows.

Aizen’s expression softened, and slid Zabimaru through the bars as if offering it to Renji.  “It’s not unheard of for zanpaktō to have animal names.  The prodigy captain Hitsagaya has a dragon, his lieutenant a cat…. Granted, they’re both nobler beasts. But, well,” Aizen’s eye caught his as he grasped the sword, holding it between them for a moment.  “We can hardly hide our true natures for very long, can we, Renji?”

What the fuck? Aizen seemed to be looking for something in his eyes, but Renji had no idea what it might be.  Still, he held his gaze steady.   “I… guess not, sir.”

For some reason, Renji’s response caused Aizen to exchange a look with Ichimaru.  Ichimaru shrugged.  With a nod, Aizen released Zibamaru into Renji’s grasp.  At the same moment, a burst of kidō snapped open the lock on the manacles, freeing Renji’s wrists.  The wooden cuffs clattered to the floor. 

Renji looked down at his unbound hands incredulously.  What test had he just passed… or, he wondered, had he just failed to grasp something critical?

Aizen pulled a key from inside his shihakushô. “It has been agreed that charges against you will be dropped with the understanding that you will be transferred to a division more suited to your temperament.  I think the Eleventh will do nicely.  You should focus on fighting, Renji.  That’s where your strength lies.”

“Yes, sir,” he said, though something about Aizens’s words gave him pause. _Lies_? He shook his head, trying to clear it, and tucked Zabimaru against his hip.  There was no doubt it felt good to have the sword there again, at his side.  Yes, _strength_.  Perhaps the captain was right.

Aizen opened the cell door.  As Renji passed, the captain put a hand lightly on his shoulder, stopping him.  “You will remember this kindness I have shown you?”

"Yes, sir.  Always."

"Good."

 

#

Momo and Kira were there to see him off, of course.  Momo wrapped him in a big hug, and said, “Aizen is amazing, isn’t he?  I knew he’d come through for you.”

Renji tried to smile, but foud he could quite.  “Yeah, he’s, uh, something else.”

Kira slapped him on the shoulder and said, “Only you would walk away from something like this.  I still can’t believe you kicked the lieutenant.”

 _Should’ve aimed for the balls_ , Renji thought, “I guess I’ll get a lot of opportunities to smack people around in the eleventh, eh?”

“Weirdly, I think their captain would appreciate that kind of insubordination.  I hear he’s kind of crazy like that,” Kira said, looking all horrified again.

“Eh.  Must suit my ‘temperament,’” Renji said, with a dejected little shrug.

Momo gave his arm another little squeeze.  “Oh, Renji.  Don’t get like that.  You need to go over to that company and show them what your Snake-Tail can really do.  Kick some butt!”

Renji had to laugh at her enthusiastic attempt at crudeness.  Zabimaru rattled in anticipation, as though to say it wouldn’t be long now until he revealed his shikai.  Renji patted the sword absently, as he turned to go.  As he waved good-bye, he thought that perhaps now was the time to embrace the monster inside, and learn to fight like a beast.

 

#

 

Renji had a pounding headache.  He sat on the porch overlooking the Eleventh division's practice yard with his head between his knees.  All of a sudden, a foot hit him squarely on the shoulder blade and he pitched forward into the dust. 

"Oi, New Guy, what are you doing?  Napping?" 

Renji turned around and pulled himself to his feet.  It was the Third Seat, Ikkaku Madarame.  As usual, he held his zanpaktō slung over his shoulder casually.  Renji's frown deepened.  "Not napping," he managed to say

Though, shit, he might as well be asleep. He'd never even had glimmer of Ikkaku's approach.  He'd been getting battered by these guys too.  He couldn’t seem to anticipate where the next blow would be coming from.  It was like fighting blind.  What the hell was wrong with him?

Ikkaku shook his bald head, and pointed at Renji accusingly.  "Oh, I get it.  You’ve had that screwed up face since you got here.  You’re lucky the Lieutenant didn’t nickname you ‘Squinty.’  You're one of those pansy-assed sensitive types, aren't you? You sure you don't belong over at Four with the other fainting Marys?"

"Fuck you," Renji snarled through the haze of his headache, but then remembered to add a much belated and insincere, "I mean:  fuck you, sir."

"Heh," Ikkaku laughed, leaning against the railing. “Yeah, okay.  I like you.  So I’m going to give you some advice. You can’t focus on that,” he hooked his thumb in the direction of the captain’s quarters.  “That’s like a ...collapsed sun.  It crushes everything in its path.”

“You mean, drags everything into its gravity well,” Renji muttered.

“Hey!  Who’s making the metaphor here!?”

“You are,” Renji allowed.  “But it sucks.”

“Yeah, well, it’s mine, and don’t be such an asshole.  You know what I’m talking about.  We can’t even call the medics here because they pass out when they get within twenty yards.  We have to throw the bodies over the wall.”

Seriously?  This place was worse than he thought.  He reminded himself never to allow himself to get seriously injured.  Renji shook his head.  “So what am I supposed to do?”

“Narrow your focus to two things,” Ikkaku said, holding up his fingers.  “And, in this order: your zanpaktō and yourself.  That’s all that matters here anyway.”

Renji closed his eyes briefly, and tried it.  Amazingly, the blazing pain in his skull dampened just a little.  “Huh.”

Ikkaku gave him a toothy smile, just before smacking Renji’s head with his sheathed sword.  “Oh, yeah, and learn to fucking duck.”


End file.
